by Ruby Vincent
I fixed out over the sea, skimming waves to the point they dropped over the horizon. “Nothing. It’s the fact that they don’t exist that gets to me.”
“They exist, but what those stories get wrong is that they’re handed to us. Happiness doesn’t fall into our lap. We have to fight for it, earn it, win it, sometimes even steal it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I murmured. “But I will give fairy tales credit for one thing. Every story has a villain.”
“Okay,” he sang. Zion patted my shoulder getting to his feet. “Root beer is the cure for maudlin. I’ll run to the kitchen and get us some. Want anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
Zion took off. I sank onto my palms, closing my eyes to the sun.
I felt the sand shift. “You did this.”
“What?” My eyes snapped open, landing on a smooth, hard back and the long cylindrical bruise marring the perfect skin.
“You did this,” Nathan repeated. “How are you going to make it up to me?”
“What are you—? I didn’t do that.”
“Yes, you did.” He flipped over, suddenly so close that our noses kissed. “When I gifted you such a mind-blowing orgasm that you fell on top of me, and slammed me against the table leg.” Wincing, Nathan worked his shoulder. “Ah. My whole back is sore. You should massage it. Maybe throw in a blow job for my trouble.”
I pushed him back. “You have an endless line of girls waiting to suck your dick, Nathan. You never needed me for that.”
“No one has ever scratched that itch like you can. I know it’s the same for you or last night wouldn’t have happened.”
“It didn’t happen.”
“It can not happen anytime you like. Sex is what you and I are good at, Belle. Where we went wrong is trying to make it into something else.”
“Funny. I thought you and pesky blow jobs are where we went wrong.”
A thump threw me out of our argument.
“What are we talking about?”
I twisted, nearly smacking my head on Carter’s shoulder.
“Sex,” Nathan replied.
“My favorite topic.” Carter nudged me. “I should be mad that you gave up the game, but my mom called me last night weeping and wailing. News reached her faster than I anticipated.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before—”
“—you came up with the lie in the first place?”
I inclined my head. “Touché. All the same, looks like I won’t be the future Mrs. Knight. You’ll have to think of another evil plot.”
“Why, when the first one still works for me? All you’ve done is reopened your marriage pool. You’ll have more guys swarming now but nothing to stop me from busting out Great-Grandmother’s ring.”
“You’re kidding,” I said. Hoped.
“Nope.”
I swung to Nathan. “Don’t you have anything to say about this? You were getting drunk and raging over his announcement just last night.”
“We’ve settled our differences since then.”
“Wonderful,” I barked.
“Oooh, she’s mad,” Nathan whispered.
“Real mad.”
“I’m not mad,” I pushed through gritted teeth. “Because you don’t see your little plot still won’t work. If I’ve reopened my marriage pool, I won’t have to choose you at the end, and trust me, I’ll drown in the deepest part of the ocean before I become your wife.”
If anything, Carter’s grin widened. “So that means you’ve given in. You’re pasting on a smile, turning up the flirting, and fighting the other girls to reel in the best fish. If you don’t want to walk off this island with me, you’ll have to play the game.” He tsked. “Two days and Citrine Cove’s converted you already. So much for that speech.”
My body wound tight, zinging with coursing fury and the underlying knowledge that he was right. Bucking this silly tradition landed me Carter. But going against him meant giving in.
“Scratch that,” I said. “I forgot there’s a third option where I drown you in the deepest part of the sea.”
Carter’s laugh rolled from his chest like the water lapping at our heels. Thick. Rich. Genuine.
“Oh yeah, you’re mad.” Carter pressed his nose to my cheek. “Don’t be. Who knows, you may like being married to me. I’d let you build us a hobbit hole, provide sex on demand, and I’m told I always smell good.”
If I could beat this man with a shovel and not go to jail...
“You do,” I agreed, matching his light tone. I dropped my head, burrowing in his neck. “Today you smell like—” Sunshine. Baked Apples. Musk. “—bitterness, insecurity, and erectile dysfunction.”
Carter howled. “What does erectile dysfunction smell like?”
“Spearmint.”
“Let me assure you, Mrs. Knight, that everything is functioning perfectly down there.” He patted his package. “You can give it a test drive whenever you’re ready.”
“Both of you, disappear.”
“What did I do?” Nathan lazed—eyes closed and bronzing like a Greek statue. “He’s the one trapping you in a loveless marriage. I’m just here to close the deal on our exes-with-benefits arrangement.”
“Is there a similar ex-friends-with-benefits package?” Carter asked. “I’d like to discuss those terms.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a deep breath. “I swear. My ass is the ship and you two are the crusty barnacles.”
“Sick,” Nathan said. “Can’t we be something sexier? How about you’re the sunburn and we’re the cream?”
“Or you’re the tits and we’re the bra?” Carter threw in.
“Or we’re the—”
“Nathan. Carter. Belle.”
I’d never been happier to hear that guy’s voice.
“Thank you.” I looked over at Preston heading for us. “Take your friends, please!”
“What are they doing to you?”
“Pushing me to commit double homicide.”
Preston got within five feet of us when he was intercepted.
“Baby.” Delilah jumped in his arms. “It’s almost time to tour the orange groves. Let’s take a shower.” She giggled. “You can wash my hair.”
“No, thanks.” He put her on her feet, sidestepping her. “I’m an old-fashioned guy. No sex before the wedding night.”
“Don’t be silly.” She moved in front of him. Cupping his cheek, Delilah peppered sweet kisses on his jaw. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”
“Really?” He cocked his head. “I must’ve blocked it out. I have to practically drink myself into a stupor to get it up for you.”
My eyes bugged, but not nearly as wide as Nathan’s and Carter’s.
“Preston,” Nathan hissed. “What the hell?”
Her nails dug deep grooves in his cheek. “Ha ha. Good one, baby. Don’t think I won’t spank you for that tonight.”
Delilah was talking a nice game but the tightness around her eyes and mouth didn’t bode well. Neither did Preston’s blatant irritation.
What is with these two?
The footballers and sunbathers turned their attention to the power couple.
“Hell yeah,” he said. “You know I like that as much as you. I’ll spank you till those cheeks are red, then I’ll film you facedown and ass up, playing with yourself. Just like we always do.”
Delilah’s cheeks were already red. She looked around at those watching them.
“Oh shit,” Preston cried. “What’s wrong? I thought we were showing off and bragging about our sex life in public. You finished now?”
“Not yet.” Delilah raised her voice for everyone to hear. “You can film me as long as you wear the dress and stockings. The cross-dressing isn’t my kink, but wow does it get you excited like nothing else. You hold that tutu up with your erect cock.” She marched off, Preston in tow. “Why wait till tonight? Let’s go to bed now.”
Preston let himself be dragged. “Bye, Belle. Se
e you at the grove.”
Blown away, I waved without thinking about it.
“Sirens,” I mumbled. “I’ll never understand your kind.”
NATHAN
Touring an orange grove is as exciting as you think.
As in not at all.
Mosquitoes dive-bombed me in all directions, so desperate for my sweet blood that they’d risk death under my smack.
“—this land for a hundred years,” droned the tour guide. “We’re the largest supplier of orange juice on the East Coast.”
This Desai patch of land was impressive. Hundreds of acres of orange trees backed onto a cliff dropping straight down to the ocean. Smack in the middle of the fruit was the processing center. An air-conditioned haven with a waiting area and decent snacks that they ripped us away from too soon.
Our group of thirty-six trailed the guide, Rosalie, and Mr. Hendrix down a row of endless orange trees. His speech buzzed in my ear, some of it getting through and some not. What had my attention was Belle freakin’ Adler.
She was a sea goddess in her coral string bathing suit and shining hair flying every which way in the wind. But her change of outfit into a tight floral dress with see-through mesh on the sides was just evil. It made it clear to the world, me, and the guy twitching in my pants that she wasn’t wearing underwear.
She’s doing it again.
Sucking me into her vortex and bashing me against every rock on the way down. The night before she screamed at me, accusing me of breaking us up and lying about cheating on me. Then she’s telling me to jerk off for her and the next thing I know she’s under me, licking me off her lips. After she says it won’t happen again and slams the door in my face.
If the goal was to punish me for the wrongs she imagined—it worked.
I was ready to burst through that door and apologize for the breakup, covering up Area 51, and the Lincoln assassination if it meant more than just a taste.
Instead I hopped on my balcony, took a freezing shower, and tried to think of anything but her. I held out as long as the football game. There she was, lying there all alone, and I had to be close to her. Smell her lavender body wash. Count the beads of sweat running down her neck. But of course, once I slipped into the trap, I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my nineteen years of life and proposed we sleep together no strings attached.
I eyed Belle ahead talking to Preston. Delilah had shoved herself between them, clinging to Preston’s arm fit to cut off circulation. I closed the distance.
“Shouldn’t you be with Carter?” Delilah asked. “Spend some time with the man that wants to marry you.”
“Carter can fling himself off that cliff. I’m not getting married. Do I have to write it in the sky?”
“What are you doing tonight?” Preston asked.
“Don’t know,” Belle replied. “Hanging out. Watching a movie. Maybe go for a swim.”
“Want some company?”
I shook my head. Is this guy seriously asking out another girl over Delilah’s head? Someone who has everything riding on that marriage can’t be this ballsy.
“Yeah, Belle.” Delilah kissed his cheek. “Me, Preston, you, and Carter should have a movie night.”
“Everyone.” Rosalie cut off whatever Belle had been about to say. “Gather around, please.”
We formed a semicircle around her and her assistant. Mr. Hendrix held a stack of papers in his hands.
“I hope you enjoyed your tour of the grove,” she began. “It’s important to me that we get you out of the villa and exploring this beautiful island. It’s too lovely a backdrop to waste.”
I wandered over to Belle. Now that’s a lovely backdrop.
“I confess I have another reason for bringing you out here. Today is the first of the one-on-one activities,” she said. “Throughout our time here, every one of you will have an opportunity to talk and see how you click. The activity will be different each time to keep it fun and fresh. Today begins our first, the video scavenger hunt.” She waved her hands. “Pair up, take your scavenger list, and then find a private spot to complete your tasks.”
Delilah hauled Preston off quick—no doubt coming to the conclusion he’d choose Belle.
“Rosalie,” I called. “Belle and I are a pair.”
She whipped around, surprised to find me right behind her.
“Wonderful,” Rosalie said. “Here’s your list.”
I took it and brought it back to her with a triumphant grin I didn’t bother to hide. “Let’s head back to the processing center. Catch that AC.”
Belle boiled me in her green pools. “What’s your aim, Nathan? I’m telling you right now, if you bring up sex or things that didn’t happen, they’ll put ‘finding your pieces’ on the scavenger list.”
“Your threats are very creative,” I said. “Did I ever tell you that? You can flip just about anything into a weapon.”
“Thank you.” She plucked the list from my fingers. “What do we have to do?”
I made a massive mistake that day but Belle did too. I wasn’t talking about our balcony rendezvous. I meant taking that paper and letting me partner with her when walking off and hooking up with someone else was still her choice. On some level—way down deep—she wanted to spend time with me.
Knowing that would fuck me up worse than ever.
“Record your partner sharing their goals for the future,” she read. “Record them singing their favorite song. Record them acting out their favorite activity.”
“Easy. We’ll be done and back on the bus sipping iced tea in half an hour.”
Belle looked around and met with trees, trees, trees. “I saw a bench under the coconut trees. The ones on the other side of the center. Let’s go there before someone gets there first.”
I swept out an arm. “Lead the way.” I expected an eye roll and I got it.
We left the group behind, falling quiet as we made for our spot. I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye. Once or twice I caught her doing the same.
“Belle, can I ask you something? It’s important.”
She blew out a breath. “Nathan, please, I can’t talk about last night. I know that we probably should, but I’m not ready to go there.”
“I know, I know,” I said. “I swear it’s not about that, but it is important, and I need to hear it from you. Please.”
Belle paused, concern filling her eyes. “Okay. What is it?”
“Are you... wearing underwear?”
“Wha—? Nathan!” She swung and missed. I had already taken off running. “You’re such a jerk!”
She chased me, laughing to set the world on fire and make the heavens cry. Belle’s laugh reduced the strongest man to putty at her feet.
“Answer the question!”
She hopped on one foot, ripped off her shoe, and lobbed it at my back. I twisted fast and caught it.
“A hostage. Now you have to meet my demands!”
Belle ran at me and jumped. Instinctively I opened my arms and we went down, landing with a thud that whooshed the air out of me. Giggling, Belle took advantage of my daze to retrieve her shoe. “I won’t answer because you already know.”
Forget Carter, I should be dropping down and proposing to this woman.
“Let’s go, dummy. That iced tea and air-conditioning is calling our names.” She climbed off and stretched out a hand to help me up.
Together we rounded the building and made for the bench. No one had claimed it for their own. We were free to set up under the shade.
“We’ll trade off,” Belle said. “Keep it fair.”
“Cool with me. Should we flip for who goes first?”
She nodded. “Got a coin?”
“Got a phone.” I pulled out my cell and typed flip a coin in the search bar. This truly was a great time to be alive. “Heads or tails?”
“Tails.”
I hit flip. “Tails. What’s first?”
“Record me listing my goals for the future.”
&nb
sp; “A subtle way to find out if they align with mine,” I said.
She gave me a wry look as she climbed on the bench. “This will weed a few options out at the gate.”
“Ready when you are.”
“Okay, let’s see.” Belle chewed her lip, head tipping back in thought. “My goal is to have my own line, of course. I want to travel the world designing and doing my part to add more color and beauty.”
“Who do you want to design for?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“When you picture the person wearing your clothes, are they young women? Working professionals? Runway models?”
“Huh. No one has ever asked me that before.” Belle smiled and it was a straight shot to my groin.
What do you want from me? I could dress it up in sappy feelings, but the fact was everything she did got me going. Those nights she spent in my beach house and fell asleep with her lips parted and drool wetting the pillow, I’d take one look at her and be ready for round four.
“I see a young woman,” she said. “Fresh out of college or high school. Looking toward the next step in life, wondering how it will change her and if she has to change with it. That’s who my clothes are for. People hanging on to what makes them unique.”
“I like that.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “You’ll have your own line one day. I don’t doubt it.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Being nice won’t win you any points.”
“Damn. Won’t bother, then.”
She laughed again and I had it on camera. I told myself as I passed the phone over that I wouldn’t be that pathetic fool listening to it on replay. But I was the same guy who couldn’t delete her texts.
“All right, Nathan.” She held my phone aloft. “Act out your favorite activity. No words. I have to guess.”
“Can do.” I squared my shoulders. Holding my arms out, I mimed like I was holding on to something. I rocked my hips back and forth.
“Nathan!”
“What? I’m hula hooping while eating a sandwich. Get your mind out of the gutter, girl.”
“I hate you so much,” she delivered with a grin and teasing glint that softened the blow.
“Fine. Try this.” I wriggled my fingers in the air.